Hate Me
by GeekBastard23
Summary: Gibbs fights a battle with Tony's inner demons. Warning: Major Character Death. Slash.
1. Part One: Watching

**A/N: Nothing belongs to me.**

**Warning: Major Character Death (McGee in this case) and slash (does this even need a warning? Guess not, but here it is.)**

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**Hate Me**

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"Let it go! Let it fucking go!" he screamed, throwing the almost empty bottle of bourbon at the far wall of the basement.

"Let what go?" Gibbs replied calmly even though every instinct within him was trying to shout at the man in front of him at the top of his lungs.

Tony hadn't been himself for months now, had drifted into a world that was only controlled by himself. No one, not even Gibbs, had been able to get through to him and he was slowly but steadily feeling himself get more and more helpless. He didn't know how he was supposed to help someone who clearly had no desire to get help. Hell, Gibbs was sure that Tony didn't even realize he was having a problem in the first place.

Gibbs had watched Tony drown his sorrows and his guilt in bottles of beer, bourbon and whatever alcohol he could buy from gas stations around town at four o'clock in the morning. He had gotten countless phone calls from fed up bartenders who had only refrained from calling the police because of Tony's insistence to call Gibbs instead – he was something like a cop after all. Gibbs had always picked him up, had stroked his back when Tony was hugging the toilet night after night, had nursed him back to the living with bottles of water and aspirin after aspirin. He had hoped it was enough, had hoped it was just a phase, had hoped that once Tony would get over the case, over the death of their co-worker somewhat, he'd go back to normal.

He blamed himself.  
He hadn't taken action on that fateful Tuesday afternoon as he saw the terrorist take aim right at McGee's head and he hadn't taken action when he had first noticed that Tony was having a real problem with himself. He had listening to Tony's inner fights with himself, had listened to his warped opinions on guilt. On some nights, Gibbs had thought that he had gotten through to him, that he had helped him to stop whatever fight was going inside his own mind, but he'd just be disappointed the following day when there were more empty beer bottles standing there than the day before.

He simply couldn't help him, no matter how he tried. Just like he hadn't been able to help McGee, no matter how much pressure he had put on the wound. McGee's life had been bleeding out right under his fingers and he had the distinct feeling that he was watching the very same battle now with Tony – only this time, it was all on himself.

Alcohol and sorrow and blame were Tony's terrorist with a gun in his hand and it was threatening to take Tony away from Gibbs, too, and he had no idea how to stop it.

"Let what go?" Tony echoed his question and he was shouting so loudly now that his voice echoed through the basement, making Gibbs' skin crawl. "Let it go! Stop trying to help me. You're just making it worse for fuck's sake. I know what I'm doing, man, and you don't get to tell me what I am supposed to be doing instead. I'm not your fucking responsibility anymore! I'm not your agent anymore and you should be glad because I was shit at it. Didn't you get the memo, Gibbs? Didn't you see what I did to McGee? He's dead because of me! He's fucking dead because I was a weak ass agent. So stop acting like I'm your responsibility and leave me the fuck alone!"

Gibbs watched him run up the stairs, gripping the railing tightly as he tripped over one of the steps, only just staying upright. Gibbs took that short moment of confusion on Tony's side to catch up with him, getting into his face, trying not to wince when Tony's breath hit him.

"You're not my responsibility, you say?" he replied, still desperately trying to stay calm. "Last time I checked you're the one that keeps coming here. You're the one who insists to call me when you get into another fight at a bar, Tony. You made it my responsibility every time I needed to come to your rescue."

"Then stop," Tony replied quietly, his shoulders sacking as if all energy had suddenly left his body. "Then just stop it. Just let me do this."

"Do what, Tony?" Gibbs answered barely above a whisper. "I won't watch you destroy yourself. I can't."

"Why not?" Tony, too, was whispering now, his eyes, red from alcohol and Gibbs was sure, crying, staring at him sadly. "Why can't you let me go?"

"Can't lose you, too. Kelly, Shannon. Kate, Ziva… McGee. Not you, too, Tony."

He could see a lone tear run down Tony's cheek now, saw him shake his head ever so slightly and yet he knew that it would not be enough for Tony to come back. The younger man stared at him for a few more moments, still shaking his head as if he was searching for something to say, but coming up empty.

"You can't help me, Gibbs," he finally said, his voice even shakier than before. "I don't want any help. I can handle this on my own. I lost them, too, you know? Kate, Ziva, my mom, Tim. It's not just you. You bury yourself in work and your stupid boat and let Abby lick the wounds for you. I can't do that, not when I know it's all my fault. It's just how I'm dealing with all of this and there's nothing you can do. So, please, let it, _me_, go. Can you do that for me?"

Gibbs stared at him for a long time, watching that one tear still running down his cheek, dripping from his jaw and disappearing somewhere into the old worn and smelly OSU sweater.

"No," he finally answered. "I can't let you go. You made a commitment to me when I hired you in Baltimore and you're damn well keeping it."

With that he leaned forward, completely ignoring Tony's protests and gave him a kiss. Gibbs felt something inside of him give way for a tiny little splinter of hope that maybe they could actually work this out, but he knew, even though Tony was kissing him back in earnest by now, that this wouldn't be the solution to all their problems. For the shortest of moments, though, everything in the world was alright again.

But it wouldn't last.


	2. Part Two: Hopelessness

**_A/N: Thanks for the feedback, guys! Sorry this second chapter took so long. I hope to get the final part up sometime next week. Thanks for reading. :)_**

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Gibbs watched Tony sleep on his couch with a heavy heart. He was glad that Tony had chosen to come to his place instead of some bar or another, but it made his heart ache that he apparently hadn't even managed to make it up the stairs to Gibbs' bedroom – their bedroom, really. Ever since they had shared their first kiss down in the basement, Tony had practically been living in his house. He still didn't have his stuff over, but he'd sleep there almost every night. But that didn't mean that everything was fine, didn't mean they were happy, not even a bit.  
While something inside of Gibbs had resolved itself the first time he felt Tony's lips on his, he still wasn't sure whether or not it had been the right decision. Even though he loved Tony, he had never told him. It would just lead to another fight about how Tony didn't deserve his love, how he was worthless and the conversation would just lead to McGee's death.  
After their initial kiss, Gibbs was clearly able to see how Tony tried to make things right. He had vowed to him that he would stop drinking, would stop getting into fights and would try to talk to somebody about his guilt when it came to McGee's murder. And he had done all these things in the first two months or so. He had tried to talk to Dr. Kate's sister, but it was clear to Gibbs that she couldn't help him. She was too close, knew too much about Tony, but the younger man had refused to see somebody else.

But despite that setback, Gibbs had still harbored the hope that Tony would make it through.

His eyes had just started to clear up about three months into their relationship when Delilah had showed up at their doorstep. She had just wanted to talk to Gibbs about Tim's last words. She hadn't meant any harm and hadn't had any clue that talking about Tim's final moments would send Tony down to hell again. She hadn't even finished her sentence about how she wanted to know that Tony had just stood up and without another word had left the house, not coming home for three days. Gibbs had been worried sick, had half the agency search for Tony until he had showed up in his basement, looking so lost that Gibbs couldn't even ask where he'd been, what he'd been doing and why the fuck he was smelling like a cheap perfume for women. He had just walked over to him, engaged him in a hug so tight that his arms had been hurting when he finally let him go. Gibbs was not stupid, he knew Tony had been drinking and who knew what else, but he had vowed to himself that he wouldn't let the other man go like this ever again.

That had been four weeks ago and yet Gibbs hadn't managed to keep the promise to himself. Otherwise he wouldn't be standing there in his living room now, staring at a passed out Tony. He loved the guy, but he had no idea how to help him. He had tried everything, talk to him, told him about his own feelings, had let him brood and had let him lash out at him. But nothing had helped. Tony was still imprisoned by his self-destroying frame of mind and there seemed to be nothing that would help him. Gibbs had thought that his care and love would be enough, but he had been wrong.

And slowly but steadily, he felt himself break under the pressure. Step by step, beer by beer and heartbreak after heartbreak.

Tony let out a sigh and stirred then, pulling Gibbs from his gloomy thoughts. He watched him slowly open his eyes and then finally focus on Gibbs who was standing right in front of him.

"What time is it?" he said, still slightly slurring.

"Almost 1300."

"Shit," Tony cursed and sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. "Promised Abby to be at her place at 11."

"Yeah, she called earlier to make sure you were okay."

"What did you tell her?" Tony checked back, unsteadily getting on his feet.

"That you were passed out on my couch."

"Why, Gibbs?" Tony all but spat out, glaring daggers at him. "She'll just worry."

"As she should be," Jethro replied. "I'm not going to lie for you anymore."

"You haven't lied for me," Tony answered, sitting back down and taking a deep breath. "You never lied because of me."

"Oh? I didn't?" Gibbs replied, suddenly furious and he had no idea where it suddenly came from. "I didn't lie to Abby this past year because you didn't want her to know that you were drinking your brains out? I didn't lie when I pretended that everything was fine with you whenever Ducky, Jimmy and hell, Vance asked how you were? I didn't lie when I pretended not to know that you're sleeping around with everyone that crosses your path when you're so drunk you won't even remember? Well, newsflash, Tony, I remember! I remember every stupid fucking perfume your conquests were wearing, I remember every fucking time you smelled liked sex, but weren't with me. I remember because I wanted to forget it so badly. I love you and you don't notice and I think you don't even care. I'm so sick of this. Why don't you just tell me how I can help you? Why don't you let me help you? Why don't you?"

Gibbs hadn't shouted, had actually spoken barely above a whisper but he had seen Tony shrink away from him with every word he had spat at him. He hadn't meant to say it to him, hadn't meant to make him upset, but he just hadn't seemed to be able to stop himself.

"You say it like it's easy. I can't go a day without a fucking beer, Gibbs. Every time I'm just remotely sober, all I can think about is how I let the terrorist go and how I watched him kill McGee. Do you have any idea how that feels? Do you have any idea not to be able to help him day after day, night after night? Do you have any idea?"

Gibbs stared at him for a moment before he sat down next to him. They didn't touch, but Tony wasn't backing away from anymore.

"I do know," Gibbs finally answered, staring at Tony, who had his glance fixed on his hands. "I know because I've seen it a million times myself. I couldn't help him either, Tony, and it wasn't your fault. Just like it wasn't my fault that Ari killed Kate. I wasn't the one pulling the trigger and neither were you. It's not your fault."

"It is," Tony replied so quietly that Gibbs wasn't even sure he'd really said it. "It is. I let him go. I had him and I didn't shoot him. I just let him go and now Timmy's dead because of me. Have you seen Delilah? How could I have done this to her? Now she has to raise that kid of theirs all alone. A kid who'll never know his goddamn father because I killed him. How am I supposed to live with that? Huh?"

"You'll have to," Gibbs replied just as quietly, knowing that it made no sense trying to convince him that he wasn't guilty. Tony wouldn't believe him. "You'll have to learn to live with it. Just think about Abby, Ducky, hell, your father. Think about me and what you're doing to us. We're all lying to each other because nobody wants to admit that you're in trouble and that we're helpless. Look at what you did to Delilah when you walked out that day when all she wanted was to hear about Tim's last words about her. She blames herself that you fell back into your old ways, you know that? And I blame myself because I don't seem to be able to find a way to help you. Did you ever think of that?"

While he had been speaking, Tony had put his head in his hands and his shoulders had started to shake. Gibbs knew that he was crying, but he couldn't bring himself to touch the younger man next to him. He didn't know how he would react, so he just sat there, staring at his partner, trying to figure out what to do next.

Just when Gibbs thought that Tony would continue to cry for the rest of his life, the other man turned his head towards him, his eyes red and his expression crestfallen. When he started to speak though, he sounded as determined as he hadn't heard him in years and it made Gibbs' gut tighten in discomfort.

"Then why don't you just hate me, Gibbs? Just hate me and let me go. You can't help me, as much as I wish you could. You can't. Hate me for all the things I did to you and the others and for all the things I didn't do. Hate me for never telling you I loved you. Hate me for never telling you how great you've always been and how grateful I am that you still keep on catching me when I'm falling. Just hate me and so you can see that I'm not it. I'm not the one you deserve. You deserve someone who makes you speechless because they're so great you can't even form words. You deserve the best fucking person on earth and not me who's the complete opposite. Just let me go now and try to be happy because I sure as hell can't make you happy. I'll only make you more miserable."

Gibbs wanted to say something to stop him and he had just opened his mouth as a sob escaped him. He hadn't even been aware that he had been crying, but he had to be for a long time apparently because the first tears were already dripping down his jaw now.

"See?" Tony just said calmly as he stood up, wiping away his own tears from his face. "I can't keep doing this to you. I have to… I don't know. I have to get over this, but I don't want you along for the ride. I love you, but I can't keep doing this to you. I never realized before, but I've never been a man before. I need to grow up, deal with this. I'm sorry I've dragged you down with me. I'm so sorry. I'll just go now…"

"Tony," Gibbs finally found his voice as he got up and grabbed Tony's arm, almost desperately trying to hold on to him. "Don't go. Don't leave."

Tony stared at him for a long moment, his eyes glistening from new unshed tears.

"If you love me, Jethro," he started and Gibbs felt sick at hearing him call him by his first name. "Let me go. I promise that I'll try to get through this. But I need to do it alone, I'm so sorry. Just let me go to see what's good for me… and for you."

"Tony," Gibbs said brokenly and wanted to hold him back when Tony made a step backwards. "Tony, don't."

The younger man just shook his head and against his own will, Gibbs let go of him. Tony looked at him for another moment or two, tears spilling again before he finally turned around and walked out the front door, leaving Gibbs standing there in the living room, feeling like he wanted to die right there and then.


	3. Part Three: Forever

_A/N: I have to apologize for the long wait on this. Real life got in the way big time and while things are still jumbled up, it's better now, so here's the final installment of this little story. I hope you like it and thanks for reading! You guys are awesome! :)_

_Special thanks to 4depthoflove for the awesome words just when I needed a good kick in the butt xD_

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**Part 3: Forever**

Gibbs startled ever so slighty when his computer dinged out of nowhere. He turned his head to look at the screen and then felt his heart miss a beat as he saw Tony's current location pop up. Abby had his cell phone pinged in the hopes of tracking Tony down right after he had left Gibbs' living room that fateful day. He had switched his phone on and off seemingly randomly over the last four months and Gibbs was pretty sure that he had always done it on purpose, like he knew that they would want to know where he was. He had never called him or Abby or anybody else for that matter, though. Gibbs didn't know what to make of that, but he took it as a good sign that he hadn't just vanished from the edge of the earth.

He'd been in Hawaii right after he had fled from Gibbs' house, but had soon moved on to a rehab center somewhere in Florida. Gibbs had been more than glad when they found out about that, but couldn't help but feel even more useless than before. He would have gone through the task with Tony, too. Would have encouraged him and stood by his side, but apparently Tony didn't want him to. Didn't want him to help, didn't want him. He didn't know how it could hurt that much, but it did.

All these dark thoughts he had harbored over the last couple of months suddenly vanished from one moment to the next, however, when it seeped through to his brain where _exactly _Tony had switched his phone on. Gibbs stared at the address for more than a few moments before he realized that Tony was, of all places, at Delilah's. Gibbs fingers itched to pick up the phone and call her, but he knew that he would have to wait. He had no idea why Tony had decided to visit her, but he fervently hoped that it was to get some sort of redemption for himself. Gibbs knew that Delilah wasn't blaming any of them, had often told him, in these long last four months, how she wished he hadn't come to visit and send Tony into his downward spiral. It wasn't her fault, but he couldn't blame her that she kind of felt that way. It felt like a vicious circle for all of them, but now he couldn't help the sudden bubbly feeling inside of him.

Maybe this would be the day. Maybe this would be the day when the two of them could ease up their guilt once and for all. Maybe this would be the day when Tony found his peace. And maybe… maybe this would be the day when Tony came back to him.

He packed up his stuff, his glance falling at the two empty desks in front of him. He still worked together with Bishop on minor cases, but he hadn't dared to replace McGee and Tony. He knew, really he _knew, _that Tony wouldn't come back and that McGee couldn't, but he had refused to work with anybody else. Bishop had never said a word, had wisely chosen to stay quiet and he was eternally grateful for that. Now, though, she looked up quizzically.

"Where are you going?" she asked, pausing her typing for a second.

"Tony's in DC," Gibbs replied, already on his way to the elevators.

He could feel her stare on his back, could almost feel the questions she wanted to ask, so he turned around for a moment, knowing that she cared, too, a lot. She had lost McGee and alongside Tony with him, too, after all.

"I'll call you when I know something," he added briskly and received a slight nod and a small smile from his young agent.

He turned around again, praying to whatever god who'd listen, that Tony would come _home_, too.

*x*

He had debated going to Delilah's, but he knew that if Tony would want to see him, he'd come to his house. So, he had just driven home on autopilot and ever since then had been sitting on the couch where Tony had left him behind four months before. He felt more nervous than he could ever remember and didn't know what to do with himself.

That was until he heard the front door open quietly, heard hesitant footsteps and then after what felt like years and decades he saw Tony standing right in front of him.  
He smiled at him almost shyly as he took in the younger man's appearance. He was tan, probably due to his time in Hawaii and Florida, his hair was cut very short, almost Marine-style, and he was wearing a soft smile on his lips. His eyes, Gibbs noticed, were clear, just like they used to be when he had first hired them. Still, they were a bit puffy and he realized that he had to have cried only a short while ago.

But all of that didn't matter. It simply didn't matter because Tony was back in his house, was back where he belonged and Gibbs wouldn't be so stupid to let him go again. Before he could say anything, though, Tony stepped a bit closer and started to speak softly.

"I know you want to say something, Jethro," he said. "And I'll let you kick my ass or slap my head as hard as you need to, but first let me finish?"

It was phrased as a question and Gibbs knew that Tony was actually asking for permission, so he just nodded, encouraging him to continue – all the while feeling his heart beat furiously in his chest.

"I'm sorry for leaving the way I did. I'm sorry for everything I did to you. I just couldn't see good anymore. I'm sorry for dragging you down with me and not calling you afterwards. You have no idea how many times I picked up my phone to give you a call, how many times I just wanted to book a flight to see you… but I just couldn't do it. I didn't want you to have to clean up my mess again. You've done it again and again and I couldn't let you do it again. I needed to do this on my own. But also, and that's far more important, I had to block out thoughts of you… because you have always been the one fixture in my life. Whenever I thought of you for more than a few moments I felt like the most disgusting thing on earth. You were there for me when I was at my low point, you opened up to me and I didn't appreciate it the way I should have. I always knew you loved me and I never told you I did, too. I still do."

Tony had started crying now and Gibbs felt himself choke up, too, but he refrained from getting up and hug the man in front of him, refrained from speaking, knowing that Tony had not yet finished talking – even though his whole body desperately wanted to.

"I've just been at Delilah's place… Have you ever seen Tim's kid? He looks just like him," Tony gave a small smile despite the tears that were still streaming down his face. "I'm really sorry I missed the first few months of his life. I feel like crap that I didn't even know his name was Anthony. Did you know that, Gibbs?"

Gibbs just nodded. Of course, he had known, he had just never told Tony in fear that it would push him over the edge. Maybe he should have, though, he realized as he saw Tony in front of him smile again.

"I'm not going to walk away again, Gibbs. I'm not going to walk away from Tim's kid or from Delilah, or the others. I don't expect _you _to forgive me, but I just wanted to let you know that I have forgiven myself… to a certain degree. I know that it wasn't my fault entirely that McGee's dead," he choked up for a moment, but fought through it. "But I know now that nobody blames me for it. I can see that now. Talking to Delilah just now was… I can't even describe it. It was what I needed to move on entirely... Gibbs, I haven't touched a drink since I stepped out of this house. I've been to a rehab center and I won't lie to you, it has been so hard to stay sober. But I wanted to see you again and I have sworn to myself that I wouldn't let you catch sight of me drunk ever again. And you won't, I promise. I can't promise you that all will be great again, but I desperately want to make it up to you. I don't know if you want me back, but I will be there if you do. I'll stay sober and I want to do things with you, enjoy whatever you are willing to give me. I missed so much the first time around that I want to make it up to you. I'll stay here or look for an apartment for my own. I don't even care if you want to be friends or lovers… I just hope that I get to see you again from time to time. I don't want to put you on a spot here, I just… I really… I really wanted to see you. That's all."

Gibbs nodded once, trying to get his head around everything Tony had just said. He felt proud, sad, moved and devastated all at once. He didn't know what to do with all of that, but as he watched Tony almost shrink away from him, sheer desperation radiating from him as he waited for Gibbs' answer, he knew that all of that didn't matter. All of it didn't.

He just loved the younger man with every fiber of his being. It had almost killed him when he left his house back then, but he wasn't willing to let him go again. He had lost too many people in his life to let him go just like that – again.

So, he finally stood up and approached the other man. Tony had stopped breathing, he realized, as his arms wrapped around him. Only then, did he release a shaky sigh as he hugged him back – hard.

They didn't speak – all that had needed to be said had already been spoken. They just clung to each other, breathing in each other's scents, making sure that they really were there and together. Gibbs knew it wouldn't be easy, knew that the sheer happiness of having Tony back in his life wouldn't last forever, but he was willing to hold on for the ride – whatever might come their way.

Because one thing did matter: Tony had come home and Gibbs would take care of him.

_Forever._


End file.
